


Love You More

by Itachi_S_Lucius



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcoholic Tony, Angst and Tragedy, Artist Steve Rogers, Baby Peter, Depression, Domestic Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Manipulative Peter, POV Second Person, Past Child Abuse, Post-Iron Man 1, Post-Iron Man 2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Iron Man 1, Pre-Iron Man 2, Secret Identity, Superfamily, Superhusbands, Tony Stark Doesn't Like Being Handed Things, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itachi_S_Lucius/pseuds/Itachi_S_Lucius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You will cry, eventually, for yourself, for your husband, and for your child. Not yet, though, you will be strong for now, and protect all of you. You are not giving up yet, it isn't in your nature. You just want your husband to wake up and be himself again. At least for your son's sake. Then your husband disappears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You More

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a kind of experimental work of mine, with a new type of perspective, and writing style. I'm unsure about how I feel about it yet. 
> 
> In light of that fact, I'm hoping you guys could give me your thoughts on what you think about it, I'm unsure on if I should continue, so if you would I'd greatly appreciate it. 
> 
> Also, the abuse in it is not quite based on my own experience, but I do know to a certain extent what it is like, and I want people to know this so I don't offend, i base most of Steve's opinions on what I have felt. Please keep that in mind. 
> 
> Tony does know of his mistake, and eventually fixes his ways, it does take awhile, and there is a lot of angst involved before hand.

Once again you find yourself the mirror, it was large and rectangle, surrounded by dark wooden paneled walls, made to look far more natural than they were. The sink below you is also rectangle and is a light creamy colour that fits in and mixes itself perfectly with the walls.

 

Once again you lose yourself to your own fragile thoughts, that really could break you if you gave them the chance. You think to yourself, with a smile on your face that is far too fond then it should be; 'My husband is quite good at designing things.' And though you have thought this before, it is usually focus more upon his inventions, and less of his interior design ideas. You shake your head, your mind letting itself slip up once more, you forget what you were doing in the bathroom in the first place. You look around the room, hoping for a mental hint, when your eyes land upon the mirror in front of you, and you stare at your own reflection.

 

Your cheekbone is green, a bruise would be by tomorrow you knew. You didn't care for that. You looked down at the sink, you can feel shame rise, and tighten your chest once again. You try counting to yourself how many times it has been since this has happened. You know it hasn't been many, but your mind is slipping little devious traps in itself, you try to ignore them, they whisper many words that you needn't hear. It had only happened three times in the past your, that's all, it is no big deal, you decide to yourself. You look up to yourself once more, you can see your own determination in the mirror and it makes you smile because you know, you love the man, even if he messes up as he does.

 

You walk out of the bathroom, your shoulders back, and your posture tall and confident. To your surprise you see your husband there, leaning against the wall casually while playing with his overly expensive phone, that you know has, and never will be released to the public, you can't help but feel a little guilty for that. Finally he notices you staring, and puts his phone away into a dirty pocket in his 'far-too-grimy-to-be-healthy-jeans.' He stares at you for a moment, you know he's thinking on what to say, and you can't help but smile.

 

"I shouldn't have done that..." It's barely above a mumble, and you are tempted to make him say it again just to make the poor man skirm. You don't though, he has enough trouble as it is apologizing, you know your can't discourage him from doing so with your light teasing. His hand runs over the green-soon-to-be-bruise on your cheek, and you can feel his hand shutter on your cheek, his eyes are calm and steady, bt you know better, you know he is anything but.

 

"It's okay Tony, It's okay." You sooth, but really you know it isn't. He knows this too, but he simply draws back his hand and looks to the window of the mansion. Looking at the summer water in Malibu you smile, it is after all a beautiful place.

 

"You know it isn't Steve." He says simply, you look back at him, but his eyes remain glued to the ocean. "It's abuse." He states and you shudder at the words, but you don't disagree. You know it wouldn't do any good for you to even attempt to argue.

 

"I know." You state plainly. He looks towards you now, his brown eyes angry, and calculating. Part of you is insulted that he seems to think that you would run away, so quickly, your behavior then that. But really you know you're trapped, and you wouldn't even be able to walk out that door. It's a stinging realization, and it hurts your head to even think about it. And because you don't want to think of it anymore, well that only makes it harder, because you love this man and you know he loves you back. You can hear a faint crying from the bedroom, and smile, glad for little miracles.

 

You turn and walk up the stairs, but your arm is grabbed in a firm, almost painful grip, and you turn. He's staring at you with a cold angry stare, his lips drawn into a thin line.

"We're not done talking about this." You nod shallowly, you don't want to talk about it anymore. It's such a painful subject. You turn then back to the stares, you can't meet his burning stare anymore. The weight leaves your wrist, and you climb up the stares, somewhat half-heartedly.

 

The room is dark when you enter, but it quickly lights up as the lights sense your presence in the room. There is barely any furniture in the room, besides a crib holding a small little baby boy, that was only months old when it had been abandoned to the orphanage. You smile as you approach, his little limbs are screaming all over the place, and his mouth is wide open in a shout. But to you he's still so beautiful. So perfect. You pick him up, a solid weight in your arms, he stops crying. You laugh.

 

"Did you miss me little guy?" You coo, and his little face breaks out in a smile larger than life.

 

And you smile back, because you just can't help yourself. His happiness is contagious. You move out of the room, the precious little bundle in your arms. And as you carry him downstairs there's a large smile on your face. Your husband, guilt on his face looks upon the both of you with a strange combination of appreciation and condiment. You smile at him ever so cautiously, he doesn't smile back, you're not surprised.

 

The couch is comfortable, so you rest your sons on it quickly while you turn on the television. You return quickly, even though you know, logically, you would have hear him fall off the black surface. You pick him up once more, using only your right arm to hold him, his small -tiny- head rests in the crook of your elbow.

 

Really the light yellow blanket probably does make him look smaller than he actually is, you smile at that thought. Probably true. Peter -as you have named him- whines and moans as he wiggles in your arms, his large soft eyelids open, and you are met with amazing blue eyes. Though to be honest with yourself it is quite the mystery in the household at the moment whether that was his natural eye color or not. You think it is, because you know that the blue baby eyes are only supposed to last a couple of days.


End file.
